


Destiny is Calling Me

by Jennsepticeye



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Established Relationship, First Aid, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Keldabe Kiss, M/M, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28123914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jennsepticeye/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: Din’s entire life is marked by death and pain and loss, but very little compares to the overwhelming grief upon finding the Covert destroyed, and a pile of beskar on the floor. All that remains of the people who raised him, gave him a home. Not to mention the uncertainty, the lack of closure, that comes with not seeing his /be’riduur/ helm among the pile. The Armorer says that some escaped off world but with no means of contact, Din has no way of knowing if his husband survived, or where he would be if he had. He hopes more than anything that Paz is safe, but the galaxy is large, and Din is just one man.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla
Comments: 12
Kudos: 209





	Destiny is Calling Me

Din’s entire life is marked by death and pain and loss, but very little compares to the overwhelming grief upon finding the Covert destroyed, and a pile of beskar on the floor. All that remains of the people who raised him, gave him a home. Not to mention the uncertainty, the lack of closure, that comes with not seeing his  _ be’riduur  _ helm among the pile. The Armorer says that some escaped off world but with no means of contact, Din has no way of knowing if his husband survived, or where he would be if he had. He hopes more than anything that Paz is safe, but the galaxy is large, and Din is just one man.

For several months he tries to keep his mind occupied, searching for leads on the Jedi, or the Child’s home planet. It works to some degree. He takes jobs when he needs money and takes care of the kid as best he knows how.

The  _ ad’ika  _ certainly keeps him busy, constantly wandering off, eating things he probably shouldn’t, and creating all sorts of messes with that strange power of his. Din has never had to baby-proof his ship or buy teething rings, and fatherhood is exactly as stressful as he expects. 

He’s not even looking for info when it happens. Mossun is only a pit stop. Rations are running low and the Crest needs some minor repairs, so in the meantime he loads the kid into his  _ birikad  _ and treks towards the market. Mossun is a lush forested planet speckled with towering cities. Large populations are always a risk, since the chance of running into imps or hunters with fobs on the kid is higher, but on big planets with diverse populations it’s also easier to blend in. Big cities have far too much going on for people to care much about strangers.

At the kid’s babbling insistence, Din finds himself inside a brightly colored toy store. The shop is tiny and although Din isn’t as bulky as P— although Din is relatively small, he worries about knocking into the crowded shelves. The woman behind the counter watches him curiously and with a surprising lack of suspicion. 

“Is there anything I can help you find, sir?” She asks, when Din has been scanning one shelf a little too long.

“Do you have something with buttons? He has a habit of pressing things he shouldn’t.” 

“Bottom shelf to your left.”

The kid babbles excitedly when Din hands it to him, flicking levers to his heart’s content, so Din figures he can spare the credits. “We’ll take it”

As they exchange payment, Din speaks again. “Maybe it’s a long shot, but have you seen any Mandalorians around here? Someone with armor like mine?”

“Can’t say I have, but the city is a big place. All sorts of travellers come through these parts.”

Din sighs “Thanks anyway.”

Another downside to big cities is that there’s no good place to get the information he’s looking for. It’s not so easy to find shady mob bosses in a shining city as it is to find one in some industrial skug hole. 

The kid starts fussing and Din knows it’s about time for him to eat. He thanks the stars that the kid isn’t a picky eater, because then travelling would be even more of a nightmare than it already is. Thankfully food is as bountiful as anything on Mossun, and he finds an inexpensive restaurant in just a few minutes. It’s not crowded which is why  _ he  _ is so easy to spot.

_ Vizsla _

He’s just  _ sitting there  _ looking calm as anything, holding a conversation with one of the employees and gesturing with his hands. He barely fits in the seat, comically large and Din just  _ stops  _ because he can’t believe his eyes.  _ Vizsla. Paz. Kaysh riduur.  _ He’s alive and sitting right there, right as rain.

He must feel Din’s eyes on him, because after the employee walks away his visor locks onto Din, just standing in the doorway, staring like an idiot. But Paz is a man of action, and the moment he sees Din he stands up, knocking his stool backwards with a clatter, and rushing with heavy steps toward Din. Normally he would worry about causing a scene but right now he’s got tunnel vision for his  _ cyare.  _

_ “Paz.”  _ He breathes, barely audible through the vocoder. “You’re alive.”

“Indeed  _ cyar’ika,  _ and what a relief it is to see you well.” He says, leaning down to knock the front of their helms together.

Din closes his eyes, hoping to brand the moment into his memory forever. If it weren’t for the  _ birikad  _ on his chest he could almost pretend nothing had changed or gone wrong, that they were just on some bounty together, far from Navarro. Din would stay like this forever if he could, but the child chooses that moment to squeal for attention and stretch his tiny hands towards Paz, as if he could sense the bond between them. 

“So this is the  _ ad’ika  _ that caused all the fuss.” Paz chuckles, rumbling from deep within his chest. “I must say, Din’ika. Fatherhood suits you.”

There’s so much Din wants to say, but can’t find the words to say any of it. He opens and closes his mouth underneath his helmet.

“Come sit,  _ cyare.  _ The little one looks hungry, and you look tired.”

Din does as he’s told, sliding into the seat next to his husband and leaning their shoulders together. The relief of being close to his love after so much time and uncertainty is indescribable. He wishes they weren’t in public so he could kiss Paz until they both run out of air. “How did you get out here? You don’t have a ship.”

“I took Errim’s. She…” Paz pauses solemnly “She didn’t make it out. Unfortunately, the Challenger wasn’t equipped for such travel, and I’ve been stuck here a while.”

“I’m sorry. I saw what happened to the Covert.” Din says.

“There is no need for apologies, Din. We knew what would happen should we reveal ourselves. We did what we thought was right to protect the foundling. This is the Way.”

Din chuckles dryly. “The Armorer said the same thing.”

“Ah, so she is alive?”

“Last I saw she was caring for the beskar. I’ve been back to Nevarro once since then and saw no trace of her. I can only hope she escaped.”

“That is all any of us can do.” There’s a heavy pause before Paz speaks again. “I take it you’re not on Mossun for a family vacation.”

Din shakes his head. “The Crest needed some repairs, and we were running low on supplies. I need to find work so I can pay for it.”

“There’s not any bounty work here on Mossun, I looked, but I have made some money since being stuck here.” Paz suggests.

“ _ Cyare,  _ I can’t ask you to do that. Those are your earnings.”

He scoffs. “I insist. Besides, what is the point of earning if not to spend. With three mouths to feed we’ll need to get off this planet to find any decent bounties.”

There it is, the confident suggestion Din has been hoping for but felt too embarrassed to hint at himself. Paz is coming with them. A clan of three. Him, his  _ ad’ika,  _ and his  _ riduur.  _ It’s more than he dared hope for since he found the pile of armor in the sewers under Nevarro.

“I’d be glad to have you with me.” He says after a moment.

~*~

Paz’s earnings are enough to repair the Crest’s most critical damage and fill the tank. That leaves enough credits in Din’s pocket to buy a month's worth of rations for three and some minor indulgences, like new bedding. 

Soon enough the Razor Crest is back in the sky, the Child in the seat to his left and Paz to his right. It’s a new feeling, having his family so close, and Din takes a moment to appreciate it. As he searches for the coordinates of a far seedier planet than Mossun, he can hear Paz interacting with the child behind him. It fills him with warmth.

All the tension he’d been carrying with him since he fled Navarro with the Child leaves him in a rush. He can stop carrying the universe on his shoulders because Paz is there to help.

A while later with a full belly, the kid goes down for a nap and Din is alone with his husband in the cockpit. Paz took the first step in suggesting they stick together, so Din takes this one. The latch of his helmet opens with a hiss and he sets it gently on the console. A moment later he hears the sound of Paz’s helmet hitting the floor, and he turns in his seat. After so much time apart he’s  _ finally  _ face-to-face with  _ kaysh cyare.  _

Paz’s beard has grown out a bit and he has this lovely smile on his face as he looks Din, and suddenly the few feet between them seems like an entire light year too far. So Din rises from his chair and stands in the space between his husband’s knees. Paz is such a mountain of a man that even sitting, Din is only an inch or two taller.

Paz’s gloved hands come up to cradle his face and Din leans into the touch with a sigh. Reflex tells him to close his eyes, but seeing Paz’s face is such a rare treat that Din is going to savor every moment. 

_ “Mesh’la.”  _ Paz says reverently.

Din’s face heats under the compliment and folds himself into Paz’s arms. It’s really hitting him now, that Paz is alive, heart beating somewhere beneath sapphire blue beskar. Din’s breath shudders in his chest. Paz smells like metal and dirt and sweat and  _ home.  _

“I missed you.” He says it into the crook of Paz’s neck like a prayer.

“I missed you too, Din’ika. Every day.” The other replies

A couple hours later Din falls asleep in his husband’s arms for the first time in far too long. It’s cramped in the bunk, especially since it’s not meant for two and his bedfellow is as big as Paz is. It’s too small and too hot, but Din has never slept more soundly.

~*~

They find work on a planet called Nurrumu, Guild work, which is welcome since Din’s reputation now earns him respect far away from Nevarro. The second, taller, unknown Mandalorian behind him earns them even more respect. 

It’s good work. The three bounties are working together on a nearby moon like some sort of crime syndicate, demanding protection money from the locals and causing trouble when they aren’t paid. It’s the kind of job Din used to hope for every time he visited Karga. 

The flight to the moon Tessoc-3 is a short one, and the time is spent going over various plans for the easiest strategy to take them in without complications. They clean their weapons shoulder to shoulder and put the child down for a nap before locking the door to the bunk where he’s sleeping. 

Finding the bounties is not the hard part. The three of them are never far from each other, and they like to make a scene, shaking down the townsfolk for money in the middle of the street. At the moment they have a blaster under an old woman’s chin. The other citizens nervously ignore it, watching out of the corners of their eyes and looking curiously at the two Mandalorians who have just arrived.

Paz takes the first shot, a warning that soars over their heads. They drop the old woman and turn to face Paz and Din, outraged. The fight is long, and thankfully the bystanders have the good sense to keep out of the way, running at the first sign of trouble. Din always hates getting into firefights in populated areas.

Paz drifts away during the fight, working on taking down their gunner and leaving the other two to Din, exactly as they discussed. Except when one is knocked unconscious and they’re working on hand-cuffing the other two, the one on the ground beneath Din has a feral grin on his face.

“You messed up, Mando.” He spits.

Ice fill’s Din’s veins, no time to stop him from using the remote in his hand. The button clicks and then there’s an explosion down the road, lighting the square with a flash of fire right where Paz is standing over the third bounty.

Din holds back a yell and cracks a fist down on the back of his head, knocking him out and bolting down the street. The E-Web explosion on Nevarro had nearly killed Din, and this one was just as powerful, flinging Paz several feet away where he now lies unmoving on the stone.

“Paz!” Din calls, dropping to his knees next to the man.

Paz doesn’t say anything, but he groans, head turning towards the sound of Din’s voice. There’s crimson blood dripping slowly into a pool at the edge of his helmet. Head trauma.  _ Dank farrik.  _

Paz is so much larger than Din, even with the adrenaline making his heart beat double time there’s no way he can carry his husband all the way back to the Crest. Even if he could it would take a long time, longer than Paz has.

“Mando!” Someone calls. It’s the same old woman from earlier, rushing towards him as fast as can be expected of someone her age. 

“Please.” Din says urgently. “My husband is injured. Is there somewhere I can take him?”

She nods. “Bring him to my house, it’s just down the street.”

Din nods, slipping his arms under Paz’s shoulders and following the woman. If Paz lives he’ll complain about the scuffs it leaves on his boots. No— not if,  _ when.  _ Din just got his husband back, he’s not about to lose the  _ utreekov  _ to something as stupid as this.

He follows the woman into her house. It’s only a couple rooms big and there’s a mat in the corner that functions as a bed. He lays Paz’s mostly limp form down onto it and takes the large tub of bacta that the woman offers him. Where she got so much, and how she could afford it, is a mystery that Din will ponder when his husband is no longer bleeding.

The woman doesn’t leave like Din expects her to, kneeling by Paz’s head and reaching for the latch of his helmet.

“Wait—” Din says, holding out a hand. “You can’t, it’s forbidden.”

She nods, hands retreating. “I see. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’ve done plenty for us already. Thank you.” He says sincerely.

Only once Din’s sure she’s gone and the door is closed does he pull the helmet from Paz’s head. His face is bloody, dripping steadily from a gash in his forehead. It must have split from colliding with the inside of his helmet. His eyes are unfocused, and he squints against the light.

He mumbles something incoherent and wordless. Din shushes him gently with a hand on his cheek.  _ “Udesii.  _ It’s okay.”

Paz looks confused but Din doesn’t have any more time to reassure him, prying open the tub of bacta and peeling off his gloves. His hands are shaking, not as gentle as he would like as he rubs gelatinized bacta over the wound on Paz’s head. When he’s satisfied with that he removes the breastplate from Paz’s chest and unfastens the front of his body suit. The beskar had done its job protecting him from debris, but the force of the blast would turn him black and blue. Din can see the bruises forming on his chest already, and it must be worse than it looks because Paz’s breathing is irregular and shallow.

Din applies the bacta as gently as he can, mumbling an apology every time he presses too hard and Paz groans. He seems more focused now, but he’s still out of it, eyes half closed. When Din finishes and his hands retreat, Paz lets out a deep breath he’d been holding, sinking into the mat. He blinks slowly at Din and reaches for his hand. Din takes it, peeling off the heavy glove and holding the large, slack hand in both of his own.

“Stay.” He mutters.

“Of course.”

Paz’s eyes fall shut and Din panics for a moment, but his heartbeat pulses steadily against the fingers on his wrist. He’s just unconscious.

When the bleeding stops Din wipes away what blood he can with a nearby cloth and carefully replaces Paz’s helmet and breastplate. His breaths come more evenly now that his ribs are healing. Din sighs in relief, settling back on his haunches and watching the steady rise and fall of his husband's chest.

The two surviving bounties are still outside, only partially restrained. Din will need to deal with them if he and Paz are to get paid. Not to mention the Child, alone back at the Crest. They’ve already been away longer than they intended and he had probably woken up, unhappy to be alone.

He needs to get a move on, but his husband just asked him to stay. In a moment he’ll go find the nice woman and ask her to watch over Paz while he takes care of the bounties and his  _ ad’ika,  _ but all of that can wait while Din calms his racing heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a Vocab  
> be'riduur- 'be' is possessive and 'riduur' means spouse. belonging to his spouse.  
> ad'ika- child/little one  
> birikad- child carrier.  
> Kaysh riddur- *his* husband  
> Cyare- beloved/loved one  
> Cyare'ika- 'cyare' but diminutive  
> Din'ika- Din's name, but diminutive. (Little Din.)  
> Mesh'la- Beautiful  
> Utreekov- fool/idiot  
> Udesii- Calm down
> 
> I really try too hard with the mando'a. I have to put a whole damn dictionary in the end notes lsjklsdfjl  
> Like always, leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed. I'm cleaning out my WIPs before the new year, and this is one I'm pretty proud of.   
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